Blame me.

I’m not talking about the debt, the heat, the drought, or your bunions.

Late one night this week when I turned the heel on my Lingerie Socks I crowed on FB of my accomplishment. The next day I moved back to knitting in the round and discovered — an error. At once I proclaimed the Knitting Fates had smote me.

I had to lay the blame somewhere for a few moments. I couldn’t face the fact that I’d gone that far past such a glaring error before realizing it. For a good five minutes I pretended that the errors weren’t there when I turned that heel. How could they have been? I’m a good knitter for wool’s sake.

The sock pattern is lovely and a joy to knit, the yarn is silk & merino dyed by my friend Bette at BBKnits. I want them to be perfect (or my best effort at the very least). I can’t bear to keep knitting without fixing them.

Do you see the errors?

Yes, it’s the flowers. One or two are missing altogether and some are just missing petals.

I’m going to frog (rip) back to before I began the heel to get those little flowers right. The plan is to wait until Sunday when I intend to have some quiet jazz playing and don’t have to be anywhere. I may pour a big glass of iced cold tea. Then I’m going to quietly rip out a thousand or so stitches and put them back on the needles. Then maybe I’ll eat some dark chocolate or fresh berries.

So I’m owning my mistake. I cannot toss it off as karmic retribution, knitting fates, the sock faeries or any such scapegoats.